"I don't see any reason to refuse us when we're going to pay," I said, glancing directly at the guards. "Or should we order your most expensive dish from the door?"
"Most expensive dish?" They burst into laughter. "Yeah, I've about had enough of your yapping."
The one with the button stick struck toward me, but I reacted quickly, blocking it with my hand.
Pain shot through my palm, but I kept a straight face, then, using my upgraded strength, I yanked the button from his grip, throwing it away.
The look of shock and disbelief on their faces was priceless.
They probably didn't expect an average-looking guy like me to overpower them.
"I'm asking one last time. Step back and let us in, or we'll cause a commotion that'll ruin your customers' 'appetites'," I said.
"Is that a threat, young man?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Just let us in, damn it." My fists were clenched hard, knuckles whitening.
Alice's grip on my hand tightened, and I could feel her unease.
Her Affection Level dropped a notch, which showed me she didn't like this rowdy behavior l was causing here, trying to force our way in. I sighed. "Fine. If we're not allowed, we'll go somewhere else. I apologize for the trouble."
I bowed slightly to show my apology.
Alice brightened, and even the guards looked surprised by my sudden change of demeanor.
As we turned to go away, one of them called out, "Kid."
I turned. He sighed. "I get it—you want to spoil your girlfriend. This once, I'll turn a blind eye, alright."
I smiled and bowed. "Thank you, sir."
"David. Names David," he said.
The other guard gave him a look, clearly not happy with his decision, but David just shrugged and stepped aside, letting us through.
"Young love…ah, how sweet," I heard him mumble. Alice's cheeks flushed pink.
Inside, all eyes turned to us again, but these were different like the eyes of envy we got outside.
These ones were judgmental, assessing eyes from people clearly used to wealth and status. My nerves tightened, but I steadied myself for Alice's sake.
"Come on, loosen up a little," I said, patting her head as we found a seat by the window.
We sat opposite each other, scanning the menu.
"Let me know if you find anything you want to eat, okay. Don't worry about the price."
"Um…I don't know." Alice sounded worried. " I just want normal food."
The menu had made me pause as well, wondering if they even served "normal" food in here.
Their dishes had names like Aquila Royale Wagyu, EagleCrest Butter-Poached Atlantic Lobster and so on.
The list of exotic and expensive dishes went on and on.
Finally, a waitress in a sleek black-and-white dress approached, offering a practiced smile.
"Have you decided what you'd like to eat?" she asked.
I glanced at Alice. She looked overwhelmed, still unsure what to eat in here.
I smiled at the waitress. "Could you recommend your most expensive beef dish?"
Her eyes widened briefly at the words 'most expensive' but she maintained her professional composure. "Of course, sir. Our most requested selection is the Imperial A5 Wagyu. Shall I reserve it for you?"
"Yes. Two plates, please."
Murmurs ran through the restaurant. Though l wasn't surprised. Seeing people like us order whatever this beef-dish was called was probably shocking for them.
It went for $900 per plate, two plates—that was $1,800 just for beef.
Another waitress came forward with a swiping machine for the transaction.
I pulled my black card out.
Ding!
Payment successful.
The entire room seemed to register the transaction, their eyes wandering our way in shock.
"Your dish will be served shortly," the waitress said, bowing slightly before walking off.
I reached across the table, taking Alice's hand to make her feel comfortable. She was still stiff. "It's okay. We're here to enjoy ourselves. Relax."
She smiled, though still nervous. "But…isn't this a bit…expensive?"
I leaned forward with a smooth smile. "Not for you. You're priceless, Alice."
Her blush deepened, and her mood visibly brightened.
Then the food arrived. Two waitresses approached with precision. One pushed a polished service trolley, the other walked beside it, gloved hands clasped calmly.
"Pardon the interruption," the taller one said, lifting a silver dome.
Steam barely whispered from beneath it, carrying a rich, clean scent. The meat they presented looked nothing like the greasy beef my rowdy sister Rita cooked at home.
"This is the Imperial A5 Wagyu, sourced from Miyazaki Prefecture," she explained. "Prepared medium-rare, as recommended."
With practiced ease, she sliced the steak into even portions. The interior was deep rose, marbling melting into the surface.
She placed the plates before us, garnished minimally with a curl of truffle potato purée, and a faint brush of jus.
"As a courtesy," she added, setting down two crystal glasses, "we've included a pairing."
She poured a rich amber whiskey for me, a pale sparkling rosé for Alice.
"Please allow the beef to rest on your tongue before chewing," she said, inclining her head, then stepped away.
I picked up my knife and fork, cut a slice, and tasted it.
The meat literally melted in my mouth, impossibly rich, perfectly soft, and bursting with flavor unlike anything I'd ever known.
I sipped the drink. God, was this food from the heavens? It filled me with joy.
Seeing all the smiles on my face, Alice decided to eat her food.
When she took a bite, her eyes widened.
"Oh," she whispered, then eagerly took another bite.
It seemed like she loved it as she began eating more and more of the meat, but just like any luxurious restaurant, the meat was too little for the insane price they charged.
So she finished her plate way too quickly.
"You can have mine too."
"Are you sure?" She asked. "I'll eat it, Mark. I'm not playing."
I chuckled. "Suit yourself."
Alice loved beef. It was practically her favorite. I've seen that through the months we've worked together at her gramp's grocery store, which was why l ordered a beef dish in the first place.
I leaned back, resting comfortably as I watched her eat from my plate, a small smile tugging at my lips.
There was something oddly comforting about how she seemed relaxed, content, and almost at home when around me.
That was when I realized how much closer we'd grown. Close enough that the questions I'd always kept buried no longer felt so frightening to ask.
"So… do you mind if I ask you something?" I said softly, lifting my drink.
She looked up at me, cheeks slightly puffed from chewing. "Sure… go ahead."
"It's about school," I began carefully. "You're always at the shop. I've never seen you attend classes, so I was just… curious."
She finished chewing and slowly set her fork down. The warmth in her expression dimmed, replaced by something quieter.
I immediately regretted asking. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," I said quickly.
"It's the fees," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn't very good at school, so my stepfather said I wasn't worth spending money on."
She paused, fingers tightening slightly around the tableware. "That's why I work at Grandpa's store. I want to save up… so I can chase my own dreams."
I'd always guessed there was pain behind her smiles, but hearing it spoken so plainly made it feel real.
"I see," I said gently. "So… what dream is that?"
She exhaled slowly. "I want to be like my mother used to be. A fashion designer. She taught me the basics when I was little, designing, sewing, everything. It's the one thing that's always stayed with me."
I nodded, meeting her gaze. "That's a beautiful dream."
Then, with a small grin, I added, "And honestly? Your future's brighter than that guard's bald head."
She laughed genuinely hard, flashing her beautiful white teeth.
"I've saved enough to start a fashion course next month," she said, picking up her fork again. "Wish me luck."
"You won't need it," I replied. "But still, good luck."
I leaned back and took another sip of my drink, quietly watching her enjoy her food. For a moment, everything felt simple. Peaceful. Perfect.
Well.....until a familiar voice disturbed us.
"W-what the hell is this? Who let these cockroaches into my restaurant?"
We both turned.
Brian Clarice had entered, a bandage stretched across his nose—right where my fist had connected earlier that morning.
His eyes burned as they locked onto us.
That's when it dawned on me. This was his family restaurant. That's why the suits of the guards at the entrance had the same silver emblem like the ones he came to our grocery store with.
His footsteps echoed as he approached us, slowly, his anger thick enough to feel.
"You've got some nerve, brat," he growled. "Walking in here after humiliating me. You're going to regret this."
Six guards closed in around us, their presence suffocating.
We hadn't just wandered into trouble.
We'd walked straight into a lion's den,
and the lion was enraged.
TBC